The Sorting
by Indoctrinated
Summary: Recounts the Sortings of The Marauders, Tonks, Kingsley, and many others. Last chapter will end as RLNT.
1. Chapter 1

All was silent at number 12 Grimmauld Place, London, the majority its residents peacefully slumbering in their lumpy, yet oddly comfortable, beds. The few regular insomniacs, including the usual Molly Weasley who was constantly fretting and puttering about the house; Sirius Black who, now tossing back a shot of smoking Firewhiskey, had gotten used to no sleep for long stretches of time; Kingsley Shacklebolt who had all the sleep rigorously trained out of him due to his Auror duties; and the seeming tireless Remus Lupin who sat in the dusty library with an old, battered copy of Hamlet held loosely in one hand while the other steadied a steaming cup of hot chocolate, while the fireplace threw long shadows across the ancient room.

And all would have remained pleasant and quiet, had it not been Nymphadora Tonks who staggered through the door, and predictable as ever, upset the troll's foot umbrella stand. The resulting thud and stream of curse words that followed was more than sufficient to wake Sirius's mother, throwing her head long into a rant. The curtains covering her previously slumbering portrait exploded as the woman inside the frame shrieked, "_FILTHY MUDBLOOD, DISGRACE TO THE NAME BLACK! BEGONE FROM MY HOUSE! YOU DARE ENTER THE MOST NOBLE AND ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK, SOILING IT WITH YOUR DIRTY BLOOD!_"

Tonks gave Sirius an apologetic grin as he loped across the hall from the drawing room, lunging for the curtains that covered his mother's portrait. Sirius struggled with the fabric for a moment before he bellowed over keening voice of his mother, "_Quit being such a prat, Moony, an' come help me out!_"

Meanwhile, Tonks grappled with the umbrella stand, attempting to make it stand upright in a different corner where she was less likely to trip over, not saying that wouldn't somehow eventually _find_ a way to.

From behind Tonks, Lupin skidded around the corner, lost his balance for a moment, but regained his footing just as quickly. He lunged forward, long arms seeking the tattered fabric that fluttered just slightly above his head. For a moment Remus struggled to get a grip on one of the curtains, while Sirius muttered obscenities directed towards his mother under his breath. "Bloody old hag, can't keep her yap shut for more than a moment," he grunted, ducking one of his mother's flailing arms.

Kingsley bounded down the stairs, wand at the ready. His quick, dark eyes analyzed the situation and he immediately went to work stunning the other paintings that were just beginning to wake up. Jets of red light flew from the tip of Kingsley's wand, and the yawning pictures frozen in mid stretch.

Between the two of them, it only took Sirius and Remus a few more moments to slam the curtains shut while Kingsley tied them tightly together with a tattered drawstring that hung limply off the wall, once having held the curtains back to display the portrait.

The three men grinned wildly at each other as they sank against the wall next the portrait, catching their breath and sniggering slightly as the enchanted painting still made muffled sounds of protest about being shut up. Tonks shuffled her way over to then men, a bright smile on her face. "Good thing I've got nice strong blokes like you to get the situation under control."

Sirius stepped forward, arms open wide and a grin on his face. "Right you are, dear cousin." He embraced Tonks tightly. "Whatever would you do without us?"

Remus chuckled softly and replied for her. "Be condemned to a life ridicule for rousing the entire Most Noble and Ancient House of Black out of their beds everytime she comes to visit." Tonks winked at Lupin.

Sirius scowled and let go of Tonks. "You're a sodding prat. Don't call it 'The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black'. Call it what it bloody well is; a rickety ole dump."

Remus grinned and slung an arm around Sirius, and supplied, "Well then, let's see what kind of drink lies around this 'rickety ole dump'. Two in the morning is the perfect time for a chilled butterbeer."

Tonks faked a sneeze. "Ah-ah-Firewhiskey-CHOO!"

"Well sneezed, dear cousin. Let me have a go around the cellars and see what I can drudge up," commented Sirius as he turned around and headed to the cellar door. Meanwhile Tonks, Remus, and Kingsley descended into the basement kitchen where they spotted Molly Weasley enchanting a few dishrags and sponges to scrub the dishes. With a last flourish and a soft, "_Scourgify_," Molly spun with a bright smile on her face.

The smile melted away as she spotted the Metamorhpmagus. "Hello, Tonks. I should have guessed it was you." Molly gave her a reproachful glare.

After a moment the glare softened into a smile, and Tonks realized she was only poking fun. Tonks returned the smile. "Wotcher, Molly. And of course it was me. I'm guaranteed to wake Sirius' old mum at least once every visit, so who else could it be?" Tonks and Molly embraced briefly before Molly held her back at arm's length and tutted disapprovingly.

"What has Scrimgeour been doing to you Aurors, you're thin as a rail! And Kingsley, too! Running you ragged no doubt." With a determined look Molly tapped a pot on the oven with her wand and set it to bubbling instantly.

"Really, Molly, it's too much troub-" Tonks started before Molly cut in sharply.

"Now young Miss Tonks, I won't take any of that cheek. Nor will I see any Order members running about with naught but bones under their skin."

Remus and Kingsley, now seated at the long butcher-block table, sniggered quietly. Molly whipped around, wand in hand, and scolded, "Don't think you two are exempt, especially you Remus Lupin. And not that you haven't been looking peaky either Kingsley Shacklebolt."

A musical tinkle of glass drifted down the stairs as Sirius descended the steps, his arms overflowing with bottles. He plunked them all down on the table, though his nose rose as he sniffed eagerly. "Mmm…beef and onion soup. No wonder why Arthur married you Mrs. Weasley, your cooking is so savory it could make even a Slytherin become a Gryffindor."

Molly flushed pink. "Thank you Mr. Black." She turned on the three sitting at the table as they chuckled and sorted out the various dusty bottles. "You could learn a thing or two about manners from Sirius here." Molly turned back to her soup and served out four bowls, levitating them over to the table.

Remus grasped the neck of a green glass bottle, squinting to read the flowing, elegant script on the label. "Notting Vineyards…1574." A skeptical eyebrow rose as he glanced at Sirius.

As he struggled with a particular annoying butterbeer cork, Sirius winked roguishly and replied to the unspoken question, "Ah yes, 1574; a very good year might I add. Don't worry, everything here is just as fresh as the day it was bottled. Preservation charms and all. My father was a stickler for old wines. Never drank 'em though, except at parties." The cork suddenly rocketed out and drenched Sirius in a geyser of foaming butterbeer. Tonks, Remus, and Kingsley howled with laughter as Molly shook her head and applied a drying charm. Sirius sputtered and continued, "He was more of a Scorching Scotch kind of man."

Once everyone was settled with a drink, and Sirius dried off, silence fell over the kitchen like a heavy blanket. That was until Tonks thumped her butterbeer resolutely on the table and said, "It's two in the morning, and we have our drinks –"

"Cheers to that," Kingsley interrupted, raising his goblet of elf-wine between a mouthful of soup. Glasses clinked around the table.

"Like I was saying, we need a good story."

Remus and Sirius exchanged glances, and chuckled. Lupin took a swig of his butterbeer, and replied, "I think me and Sirius have run quite dry of the Merry Adventures of the Marauders Four."

"Not a bad book title, mate, I rather like it. The Merry Adventures of the Marauders Four." Sirius threw back a shot of Firewhiskey and laughed heartily. " We'd make loads of Galleons with that one…"

"I was thinking about something we could all talk about, something all five of us have in common," Remus said, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"How about our Sortings?" Molly piped up, a glass of gillywater cradled in her hands. "Most of us at different times, but nevertheless, we all attended and we were all Sorted."

Tonks nodded and tipped her glass to Molly. "Good show, Molly!" She waggled her eyebrows at Remus. "I bet the Marauders' Sortings were a interesting sight."

Sirius agreed. "She's right, mate. We never did actually tell them how the four of us met." He threw back another shot. "Right then, I'll go first…"


	2. The Sorting of Sirius Black

A/N: And now for Sirius' Sorting. Writing that song was rather interesting, and yes, I did borrow one or two rhymes from J.K Rowling, because writing it was so flippin' hard. Oh well, on with the show!

The feast was prepared, the speeches ready, while second through seventh year students and every teacher sat ready in their seats. Eyes turned toward the head of the hall as the new headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, walked to the head of the stairs that led to the faculty table and placed a three-legged stool on the ground. Then from inside his robes, he produced a gray, frayed old wizard's hat with a jagged rip near the brim and placed it gently on the stool. The silver haired wizard spoke a few soft words to the hat before returning to his seat at the head table.

Gazes now strayed to the large ornate doors at the opposite end of the hall as they creaked open, seventh years smiling wistfully as they remembered their turn six years ago, while second years were still decidedly nervous about the proceedings, as their fears were still easily remembered about this night.

A long line of children, all in new pristine robes never before used, walked up along the center aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Some stumbled and shuffled; others walked with their heads thrown back, marveling at the enchanted ceiling; while a few stood on tip-toe, searching for familiar faces of older siblings.

The group milled about for a few moments, the large majority of them looking decidedly nervous as they eyed the strange hat. The headmaster waved his hands for silence. "Welcome to you who've returned to Hogwarts, and welcome to you who will join us in our learning in one of the four Houses. But the time for speeches is later." His twinkling blue eyes scanned the crowd, voice dropping to a stage whisper, "Now it is time for The Sorting." Dumbledore gestured to the stool. The rip at the brim of the hat moved. And then with a clear, ringing voice, the hat sang:

_Welcome to one, and welcome to all,_

_We gather here once more in the Great Hall,_

_Where the four ancient pillars of Hogwarts school,_

_Are Sorted into colors of red, green, yellow, and blue._

_A new term has begun, so the young must once again,_

_Place me on your head to find you've been chosen,_

_To join the brave or the cunning, the smart or the kind,_

_And this must all be done before we can dine._

_The first years have come, and the feast is in order,_

_The Sorting will begin soon, before I get any older._

This verse brought on a few chuckles from the staff and a great number of the older students.

_But first let me remind you, of each House in turn,_

_For it is something you young ones should certainly learn._

_Know that each House has a past all the same,_

_And the Founders, best friends, all together came,_

_To make a school for the new and untrained_

_Witches and wizards of each different age._

_A place to pass on all that they know,_

_So that you are able to defend from a most fearsome foe._

_But in their downfall, was who they wanted to teach,_

_Because each thought of types to which they should preach._

_Slytherin said, "We'll want them all cunning and pure,_

_Yes, those are the best ones to learn for sure."_

_While Ravenclaw claimed, "We'll take only the smart,_

_And where learning holds the highest place in heart."_

_But Gryffindor rebuked, "No, only those that are brave,_

_Whose hearts are loyal and with great deeds paved."_

_And through all this, Hufflepuff remained quiet,_

_The three feuding others, queried, "Friend, why are you silent?"_

_To which she replied:_

"_We shouldn't take those like Slytherin,_

_Just because their blood is purest,_

_Nor those like Ravenclaw,_

_Just because their wit is surest,_

_And not those like Gryffindor,_

_Only because of the deeds to their name._

_We should accept all those who call,_

_And treat them all just the same."_

_Now heed my warnings, all who remain in this hall,_

_Hearken to my words: all are one, one is all._

_Together we are strong, divided we are weak,_

_A ship can sink from but one small leak._

_And though it is my job to divide you into four- _

_Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor,_

_I fear that by grouping you I repeat the mistakes,_

_That the four great friends never realized would break,_

_The bond that once held them so strongly together,_

_One they thought would last 'til the end of forever._

_Hear now: Separated your qualities are useful, but not get you as far,_

_When together the four Houses will take you beyond the stars._

_Heed my advice, both you young and you old,_

_Those in each House should listen, you have been foretold._

_The greatest danger is sure to come from within,_

_But now it is time for The Sorting to begin!_

Applause rose from each corner of the hall, filling the room with echoes of clapping hands and sharp whistles. The hat gave a sort of stiff bow of recognition, if that is at all possible for a hat. Some of the teachers murmured among themselves, while others aimed strange glances at the headmaster, who simply shrugged in return.

One teacher, with hair pulled back into a severely tight bun and a pair of small square glasses perched on the end of her nose, rose from her seat, robes billowing around her legs. She stopped next to the stool, and summoned a roll of parchment from a nearby table with a sharp flick of her wand. Unrolling it, she called out in a clear, crisp voice, "Ackrott, Andrew!"

A stout blond boy, one of the few who had been looking for a sibling, shuffled nervously forward. The teacher picked up the hat, Ackrott took his seat, and almost the instant she placed it on his head, the rip at brim of the hat opened wide and boomed, "Hufflepuff!"

A rippling mass of black and yellow in the middle of the hall cheered and clapped as they welcome Andrew Ackrott to their House. And so The Sorting went on. After Allison, Jennifer and Archey, Evan had been sorted into Gryffindor; Avern, Thomas and Barksley, Katie into Ravenclaw; Betram, Ferris into Slytherin; and Aubrey, Danielle into Hufflepuff; Black, Sirius was called to the front to be Sorted.

The first year strode to the stool with an easy, confident walk rarely seen among new students. This could only mean that he was sure which house he would be Sorted into, although the scowl on his face seemed to say he wouldn't _like_ where he was to be placed. For the first time since the beginning of the Sorting, the hat didn't immediately shout a name, it sat brooding for a few moments, and then spoke so low only Black, Sirius and the teacher next to him could hear its murmurings. "Well, well, well. Young Mister Black, we're proving quite difficult, aren't we? If my memory serves me right, every member of the Black family has been Sorted into Slytherin. You too could do great things if you are Sorted into that house, yes, many great things young Mister Black. And yet you are like Gryffindor, loyalty and courage fight for place in your heart against the inbred cunning associated with the Blacks. I can see all of this, this conflict inside you heart and your mind. So, is it great and noble deeds for you, or is it getting whatever you desire no matter the cost? To break tradition, or to not break tradition?...Well, I rather like stirring up things, so I Sort you into…GRYFFINDOR!"

Dumbledore looked pleasantly surprised, while Horace Slughorn, Potions master and Head of Slytherin House, was just as surprised as Dumbledore – perhaps not as pleasantly though. Slughorn leaned over to the Headmaster, whispering in sharp, urgent tones. Dumbledore merely winked at the plump man and applauded.

The young boy looked shocked, even as he stood up and stumbled toward the cheering mass of red and gold, mouth open wide in disbelief. From in the crowd of remaining first years, three intent pairs of eyes watched the path of Sirius Black from the stool to his seat at Gryffindor's table. And from the staff table, the twinkling blue eyes of the new headmaster sparkled with delight from this unexpected surprise; never before had a Black been Sorted into Gryffindor, or any house other than Slytherin for that matter… this was to be a memorable year for sure. Now the gaze turned to search the first years for another familiar face that was to come up soon. Within moments he spotted the intelligent brown-gold eyes of another remarkable young boy…


	3. The Sorting of Moony and Wormtail

A/N: This time, since I skip back and forth between Grimmauld and the Sortings, I italicized the text for the sortings. If you have any suggestions of who'd you'd like to see Sorted (within a possible range of characters that wouldn't be tough to weave into the already established plot line.), just review with your wishes, and I'll do my very best to comply. I already have a list of who I'm planning to sort in the future, just so you know. This was my favorite chapter to write so far because Lupin is in it, and he's my favorite character. Oh, and a cookie to the first person to correctly guess the next person to be sorted (after the first three chapters given to you, it shouldn't be too tough to figure out). Enjoy!

* * *

"And that's about how mine went." Sirius tugged at the label on the Firewhiskey bottle. "Now, Moony was the next Marauder up. Of course in between me and him was Lily Evans."

Lupin smiled wistfully and stared down into his near empty bottle. "If my memory is correct, James already had his eye on Lily Evans from the moment he saw her sitting there on the stool with the Sorting hat on her head. He commented at their wedding that she was the –"

"Most beautiful witch ever to don the hat of Godric Gryffindor," Sirius chimed in, a cheeky look on his face. "Yes, yes. For six years James was viciously jealous of that hat because it got to touch Lily's 'oh-so-perfect head'. 'Course that jealously was instantly forgotten the night she finally agreed to go on a date with him in our seventh year." Hearty laughter echoed through the cozy room.

Remus nodded. "James and Lily were perfect for each other. I don't think I'd ever seen a couple more in love than the Potters, even after five years of marriage. And then when they had Harry…I remember Lily telling me in our fourth year she wanted the fairy tale. She wanted the valiant knight to rescue her and they would live together happily ever after. But once she married James and they had a son together, she pulled me aside and told me that her life with James was better than any fairy tale ever written."

"Cheers to that," sniffed Molly and Tonks in unison, tears welling up in the corners of their eyes. Glasses clinked musically once more.

Remus swallowed the last of his butterbeer, and then offered his handkerchief to Tonks and Molly. "My turn then…"

* * *

_About halfway through the Sorting, the seated students began to get restless, shifting in their seats, stomachs grumbling loudly in anticipation of the lavish feast. After Sirius Black had been called to the front of the hall, the hat had not yet lingered on another person, hesitating no longer than a few moments before booming out a name. But once Lucas, Harold had been Sorted into Ravenclaw, Lupin, Remus was called forward by the witch reading the roll. A thin, sickly little boy with scruffy brown hair - and yet who had the most brilliant amber eyes – nervously half-walked, half-ran to the seat and perched on the edge. The teacher placed the Sorting Hat on his head, and once more, the hat seemed hard pressed to make a decision._

_Headmaster Dumbledore looked up and smiled fondly at the first year who fidgeted uncomfortably on the stool while the hat remained silent. Eyes averted to observe another curious Sorting. A thousand thoughts seemed to race through the boy's mind as his eyes darted back forth, touching each point of interest for only a moment. He nibbled his lower lip nervously, and it looked as if he was ready to jump up and take flight at any moment. Suddenly the hat spoke in the same soft, murmuring tones as it had with Sirius Black. "Hmm, boy, do not worry. Just because of what you are does not disqualify you from coming here. First and foremost, you are a wizard, Remus Lupin. Never forget that. You seek friends that would accept you for what you are…so perhaps compassionate Hufflepuff would be good for you, her House is filled with all manner of friendly students. And yet there is also a great lion in your heart, and a strong, fierce loyalty." The boy under the hat trembled. "No, says you? You say there is only a wolf in your heart, not a lion. Well, young one, let me be the first to tell to you that you couldn't be more wrong. The wolf does not rule your heart. And it never will, unless you bid it entrance. Perhaps you will learn that the meaning of courage isn't simply being brave in the face of danger if I place you in…GRYFFINDOR!"_

_Lupin looked up, and smiled shakily at the applauding Gryffindor table. The witch removed the hat and called for the next first year, Perkins, Kevin to be Sorted. The boy walked over to the table, head hung low with a shy smile on his face as Gryffindors clapped him on the back and cheered his name, though he sought the gaze of the only other boy to be singled out by the Sorting Hat so far: Sirius Black. He too had been curiously been placed in Gryffindor. Perhaps he knew the reason why both of them had been so difficult to sort. Finally looking up, Lupin found the boy he was looking for. Black grinned broadly and patted the seat next to him. _

_To the left of Lupin, applause rose from the Ravenclaw table as Kevin Perkins joined students robed in black and blue._

_Before taking the seat next to Sirius, the sickly boy looked up to see Dumbledore watching him. The Headmaster winked at Remus, then turned his attention back to the Sorting as a small lump of a boy with oversized teeth and a shifty walk tripped on his too long robes on his way up the stairs…_

* * *

Tonks smiled softly at Remus. "I do say, Remus Lupin. You 'n Sirius managed to conjure up quite a scandal."

Remus winked roguishly and tipped his fresh bottle of butterbeer in salute. "That we did, Nymphadora. Might I add that me and Sirius weren't the only students that year to be singled out by the Sorting Hat."

Tonks scooted closer. "Oooh, tell me! I want to know who." Her faced morphed into a picture of pure innocence, complete with soulful blue eyes and blond ringlets bouncing around her heart-shaped face.

Lupin chuckled softly when he realized that she was so intent on knowing who it was that she didn't rebuke him for the use of her first name.

Meanwhile, Sirius watched his favorite cousin and his best mate over the Firewhiskey bottle, a quirky little smile on his face. A few months ago he wouldn't have given Tonks and Remus a chance…but now – now something had changed. They were different people, better people even. Sirius smirked to himself and downed another shot.

"- If you absolutely must know, Nymphadora…"

"Yes?" she urged Remus eagerly.

Lupin glanced over to Sirius. "…You'll have to get Padfoot to tell you the rest of the story about our years' Sorting."

"Prat," she snorted playfully, then her attention turned to Sirius. "I will take back my proclamation of you as my favorite cousin unless you finish the story."

Sirius laughed heartily, a thought springing to the back of his mind that he hadn't laughed this much since James' wedding. Nearly two decades ago. Sirius shook his head, scolding himself inwardly as he saw the eager faces gather around the table. Bad time for those kinds of thoughts. Sirius found a sly grin and pasted it on his lips. "That just won't do. We can't have Draco being the favorite cousin, now can we?" Warm laughter rang out for what seemed the hundredth time that night.

Sirius traded in his Firewhiskey bottle for a goblet of less potent elf-wine. "Ok, so where were we? Ah, yes. Kevin Perkins. And then the infamous…"

* * *

_"Pettigrew, Peter," the severe witch called out, eyes narrowing as a diminutive boy shuffled forward on his too long robes, tripping on the first step. He landed on the stone stairs with a rather odd squeaking sound that would have been better placed in a small rodent rather than a young boy._

_Red flushing his cheeks a curious shade of crimson, the boy scrambled up and all but threw himself onto the stool amidst a chorus of muffled laughs and giggles. Dumbledore looked down at the students over his half-moon spectacles with a disapproving glare, and the laughter was immediately silenced. The teacher lowered the hat to his head. A deafening silence fell over the hall again. The rip at the brim of the hat was wide open, but no sound came forth. Abruptly, the rip snapped shut and the hat began to brood again._

_Students exchanged swift glances while teachers leaned forward in their seats. The hat had nearly made a decision, but changed its mind just as quickly. The hall was suddenly filled with a hundred murmuring voices, a low hum vibrating across the stained glass windowpanes. For the first time in recent memory, three students were singled out by the Sorting Hat. Something inside them was difficult to place._

_The small boy shivered uncontrollably. The hat spoke to him at last. "Hmm, you're even harder than Lupin and Black. Both had a fierce bravery in their hearts, hidden from them of course, but there nevertheless. I could see Gryffindor spirit inside them. You, Peter Pettigrew, are what I would like to place in Slytherin. I see a razor sharp cunning and a talent for trickery inside you. But then there is also this need to please, a need to belong. That need will not be satisfied in Slytherin. Nor will you find your home in Ravenclaw. Perhaps Hufflepuff…but then again no. I see only one House fit to place you. Perhaps there you will find the courage I cannot see in you, Peter Pettigrew, if I sort you into…GRYFFINDOR!"_

_This time when applause came, it was brief and hesitant. This Sorting was beginning to make history. As the score stood, three students had been difficult to sort, and all three were eventually placed in Gryffindor after much decision making by the Sorting Hat. Most years, it was none more often than not that were tough to place, and never before had it been more than two. But three? All in the same year? And all sorted into the same House? These questions touched the minds of every occupant of the Hall, with the exception of Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black. Their only question was, "Why me?"_

_Peter Pettigrew scuttled over to where Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were having an urgent, whispered conversation. Lupin was pale as ever and looking as if he might pass out, but Black waved to Peter with a cheery grin on his face, motioning for him to join their conversation. Without a moment's hesitation, Peter dropped into the seat next to Black, his squeaky whispers joining in._

_All around the three first years, Gryffindors didn't know whether to eavesdrop or stay as far away as possible. There was something very odd about the behavior of the Hat this year, and these three had been singled out by it. Who were these kids? And what made them special? No one knew the answers. And no one would. That was until a lanky boy with rumpled black hair took his seat on the stool, and waited for the hat to be lowered onto his head…_


End file.
